Autumn Court
by theeShadyLady
Summary: Princess Shazi on the path to becoming the Autumnian queen. ((Written for Sara Raasch's Summer Blizzard.))


"Shazi, dear you must pick one of these men to marry, even as the conduit bearer you should still have a husband. What will the other kingdoms think? What will Noam think?! They will think you are unlikeable—that something is wrong with you—and therefore they will not respect our kingdom. We cannot have that."

"Well, then find someone is worth marrying. I refuse to marry any dog that runs in here, kissing my cheek, and asking for my hand."

"I have brought you in sixty-three different suitors, darling. All of them well—"

"Shall we review them, father? Lord Havenscrawl was three times my age. Wilhelm was twelve. And let's not mention Marta, Willa, and Penelope."

"I was just giving you options, Shazi. When you were younger, you did seem to take a liking to that girl, oh, what was her name…oh, yes! Ondrea, that was her name. She was a nice girl, very pretty. She'd make a fine—"

"She was the only other child my age! I did not love her."

"No, there was the—"

"Father, we are getting off topic now and I won't have it. I have agreed to be married, but I will not be tied to someone I cannot love. May I go now?"

"Of course, dear. We will try again tomorrow."

* * *

 _Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow he will find me. I don't know who he is, but he has to be out there. There has to be a reason, I turn down even the most notable suitors._ Still pacing in my chambers, I try to figure out what it is I am looking for, but inevitably I come up with nothing. Momentarily defeated I drop to the ground and press my forehead to my knees. _Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow._ A quiet voice in my head chants me to sleep.

* * *

"You will me happy to hear that my men have found the best bunch of suitors yet; all of them are close to you in age and some are quite handsome if i do say so myself." He chuckles at that. "But first, you must have the ladies dress you as you are to be present in court today."

I roll my eyes at this. _If it is another poor child who stole one of the farmer's thousand pumpkins, I shall walk right out._

"Stand for your queen," the court master instructs a moment before I make my entrance. "Before you, my lady, stand five of the seven offenders that tried to climb the palace walls last night. Based on their direction, and the empty seed bags they had with them, we believe they were headed for the treasury, my lady."

"Only five, Courtmaster?"

"Aye, the sixth was in such a rush that he fall to his death from the wall top, my lady."

I hate how formal all the court members act when the know they are in my presence. "And the seventh?"

"He is in our care facilities. He seemed to have been the leader and was marred by one of our guards, my lady."

"Have any of the men said anything?" I ask this as if the five are not standing directly in front of me.

"Neither of the men have said anything about the crime, nor have the four misses on the left, my lady."

 _Women? Girls_ , I correct myself as I look more closely at their faces. They are all about my age, even the one male, and the girl on the far left seems to be the one in charge of the present five.

"I would like to visit the seventh criminal." I stop myself from explaining why because as my father says a queen does not always need to do such things.

 _I can make him talk._ The female leader seem had a bit of an heir about her that made me think she didn't earn her position. And if I'm right, all I need to do is explain to the injured leader what will happen to the five waiting in the courtroom if he does not talk.

"Is that him?" I ask the healer who steps to the side as I pass. She nods.

The man, well, boy in the cot has a bandage around his head, his chest is wrapped, and his arm in taped into a sling; he's a bit more than marred.

Looking back and forth between his wounds, I begin my plan. "I have been told that you are the mastermind behind this attempted—"

"Shazi."

It's all he says. All he is able to say before one of my guards backhands him so hard I see the his color change four shades.

"You will show your queen the respect she deserves."

"I will treat her as I always have," the boy replies.

"Do you know this thief?" the court master, who followed my guards and I here, questions me with an accusatory tone.

"No. I've never even seen him before."

The boys eyes change. He looks hurt, vulnerable, confused; and that's when I recognize him. Corbain.


End file.
